Thorns of a Rose
by BlackRabbit0
Summary: Years after their horrific experience in the art gallery, Ib is now a high school student with a passion for art and Garry is still the same ol' Garry we know. However, Ib has grown and of course that means she was bound to get a boyfriend. However, something isn't normal about her new beau and Garry has several reasons to dislike him.
1. Chapter 1

_Sorry, Garry! I have plans today, but this weekend for sure, I promise!_

You wouldn't believe how many times he's heard that from her lips. Well, she's still that kid he met and escaped with from that nightmare of a gallery. Never again will he go anywhere with Guertena's name on a plaque. Even so, he was still thankful to that place. He got to meet Ib, who later turned out to be his best friend. All his other friends or at least people he knew were either dirty minded or something messed up about them. The joys of adult friends in an adult world… Ib was the only innocence in his life and one that he could be open to. He had watched her blossom into a lovely young 16 year old teen over the years and is rather proud of how she was still the same this whole time. She was still tough, innocent, smart and always curious. Even now he still taught her new words to add to her vocabulary whenever she's reading a new book at his apartment. Although, he'll admit that he missed reading to Ib, but something had to change, right?

He walked casually with his hands in his pockets to their usual café. He could never get enough of their crispy macaroons. The door opened with a tiny ding, the air tinted with freshly brewed coffee and warm sweets. The brunette waitress looked up and flashed him a brilliant smile, still recognizing his face.

"Haven't seen you in a while!" She greeted with such cheer.

The man smiled back of course and gave a small laugh. "I've been busy with my paintings." No, that was a lie. It just felt awkward to eat at the same place alone after going with someone for so many years. Actually, it's awkward in general if you don't have anything to do.

"Is that case?" She chuckled. She leaned to the side a smidge, peering to the tiles behind him. "Oh? Ib's not with you?"

He awkwardly scratched the back of his head, avert his eyes to the window outside for a moment. "She's been busy lately. High school, you know? Clubs and such." He sounded rather unsure considering Ib never told him what she was up to. He often did his best to avoid snooping into her personal business. Whatever she wanted to tell him, she'll tell him anyways, right?

The waitress tapped her pen to her lip with a low hum. "Could be a boyfriend." She answered bluntly. "Well, it doesn't help to just wonder about it so sit down. I'll get your usual."

"Right, thanks, Mimi." He chuckled. He reached out and pulled a newspaper from the stack by the door before reaching his seat. Leaning back in his seat and setting his ankle over his leg, he began to read through articles, his eyes skimming for something interesting to read. He raised a brow at one title though. "Strange Sightings in Art Gallery?" He muttered quietly. He set his eyes on the first sentence.

The door opened for a new pair of customers, the little bell acting as the signal alerting the staff. Normally Garry wouldn't pay any mind to it, but then a familiar voice reached his ears and called for his attention.

_Wait, is that…?_

A young high school brunette walked in, her fingers intertwined with that of a blonde male. The same delicate smile, the way she walked, the silky long brown hair and more importantly the ruby eyes caught the man's attention. His sapphire eyes grew fixated on the two, watching their moves carefully from behind the newspaper. Was Mimi right? Did Ib get herself a boyfriend? And if she did, why hide it? He quickly hid his face as soon as they started walking past his table. It didn't sit right in his stomach though, the idea of Ib having being in a relationship. He kept eying the blonde she was with. Flaxen blonde hair that parted to the side shined under the café's dim lighting and his blue eyes were full of life. Yet somehow, something wasn't right with this kid.

Oh crap, where'd they go? His eyes darted around the café trying to figure out where they went.

"Garry?"

He done-near froze in his seat, his fingers crumpling the edges of the papers. He quickly set them down on the table and turned around.

"H-Hey Ib! I didn't know you were here!" He forced a hearty laugh.

"What are you talking about? I could see you watching me." She answered.

Garry's face grew flushed with embarrassment, his hand running though his purple locks. "Right… Observant as always." He mumbled. "So what brings you here?" He asked, attempting desperately to change the subject.

Ib smiled, scratching at her rosy cheeks. "I… I'm on a date." She answered shyly. The brunette looked back at the teen and gestured him to come. "Garry, this is Martin, my boyfriend. Martin, this is Garry, a good friend of mine."

Garry pouted a bit. "Aw, just a good friend?" He laughed a bit and held out his hand. "Just a joke. A pleasure to meet you, Martin."

"The pleasure's all mine, sir. She's told me much about you." Martin was certainly polite as he returned the handshake.

His hand actually startled Garry for a moment. As they shook hands, he felt a chill run up his arm and down his back. Slowly, he let go and warmth came flooding back into his red fingers. "J-Just call me 'Garry'. No need to be so formal." He tried to subtly swallow the lump in his throat.

"Why don't you two get acquainted? I'll be right back." As she said that, she turned the heels of her boots and made her way to the restroom. The two watched her back as she disappeared into the mahogany door, letting a few seconds of silence pass. Awkward, tense and not to mention nerve-racking.

During that time Garry couldn't help, but feel uneasy about Martin. It'd be a good time to interview him though…

"So you're dating Ib, right?" He started. Yikes, weird question to start with.

"Yes. She's really interesting. Smart too."

"You have me to thank for that. I always read her books when she was young and taught her words she didn't understand." He chuckled as he thought back to those relaxing days in his apartment.

Martin smiled. "Is that right? You're a good teacher then." He set his elbow on the table and leaned into his knuckles. "But if you don't mind, I'd like to teach Ib a few things myself."

"I'm sorry what?"

The blonde smiled innocently as if he didn't mean anything, but the atmosphere around him told an entirely different story. Something didn't feel right with him. The look in his eyes bore into Garry, as if he was planning something. It actually startled the man for a moment, but it only took seconds for him to decide that he didn't like Martin.

The teen pulled a red rose from the vase on the table, not caring about the thorns that were left on the stalk. "Roses are delicate aren't they?"

Garry raised a brow at the boy. He only seemed to be getting stranger – not better. An unexplainable feeling panged in his chest. He was frozen stiff by this person in front of him. The only moment he was actually more scared than now was back in the art gallery.

"It's amazing how quickly they can wilt." He held the flower above his head, watching the bright red petals die away to brown, turning into shriveled pieces. One by one they fell to his laps, almost blending into his black uniform pants. He began to mutter something quietly as be petal fell. "… loves me… loves me not…"

"Just what are you-"

"Martin, you ready to go?"

Garry snapped his head around to have his eyes meet Ib's. "O-Oh, Ib. Take-out, I presume?"

She nodded cheerfully. "We're going to the park. He's modeling for me for my art project."

"I-I see… That's nice." His voice was starting to waver. From the corner of his eye he noticed Ib's somewhat confused look. "Don't mind me, I'm just tired."

"Oh… Take better care of yourself, Garry. C'mon, Martin, hurry up while there's still light out."

"I'm coming." He laughed. "It was a pleasure to see you, Garry."

He pushed the chair back as he stood up and started his walk towards the door. Then suddenly, he felt fingers wrapped around his wrists. His dark blue eyes looked down at the sitting Garry, his eyes now narrowed and serious compared to that gentle look he normally had. "Is something wrong?"

_Like hell something's wrong…_

Garry stared at him before speaking. It's clear something wasn't right with Martin, but what was it? "If you hurt Ib, I will personally break you myself."


	2. Chapter 2

**Whoa, dang… I wake up at noon, go online and check my email to find that a lot of you guys like this series o3o I find it strange that you like something that I kinda rushed, but at the same time I'm feeling all warm and fuzzy LOL Thanks for your support! **

**LOL I like how everyone's all calling Martin genderbent Mary XD Let's see where it goes shall we?**

**Anyways, I kinda rushed this so it seems pretty bad right about now ._. Ah... OTL I suck... I had to revise it over and over after uploading x_x  
**

Ever had those nights where you just lie awake in bed and time would pass by, but for some reason you just can't seem to bring yourself to sleep. Well it's one of those nights for Garry. He stared blankly at the ceiling for what seemed to be hours. He rolled over to his side, his eyes staring at the red numbers on his bedside table. Three in the morning… So much for taking better care of himself. He pushed his bangs back, rubbing his tired eyes, letting a groan escape his throat. He couldn't get his mind off that blonde kid. Was it the fact that he was dating Ib? No, can't be… Something like that shouldn't be bothering, but then again eerie and familiar was all he had to describe him. If he didn't know any better, it's almost as if Martin was… No, can't be. Mary died. He saw her burn away into nothing but ashes. The sight was still fresh in his mind. The sight of her sorrowful eyes as her skin became blackened by the flames that ate away at her body. And suddenly, he felt guilty. The girl only wanted to become real, but then again she was pretty crazy and not to mention deadly.

He rolled back onto his back and stared up at the ceiling once more. However, in the dark he could make out some marks on the white paint.

_B U R N_

The man quickly rubbed his eyes and looked again and the letters were gone. He sat up, kicking the covers back and sitting on the edge of his bed. God, he wanted to relieve some stress already. He just loves how he happens to run out of cigarettes when he needed it most. There should be lemon candy in the living room, right? He walked out his bedroom door, dragging his feet along the wooden floor for the treats that would curb his need for nicotine. The artist plopped onto the couch, grabbing a lemon candy from the opened bag on the table and popping on in his mouth. The sweet and sour taste dissipated on his tongue, satiating his craving. He let the candy rattle around his mouth for a bit before deciding to bite down to shatter it.

_MURDERER_

Suddenly the room lit up for brief moment. He looked up at the lights and watched them flicker before making way for the light switch. He cursed the fuse box for his apartment under his breath and flipped the switch, turning on the lights. Suddenly, he regretted turning on the lights. The candies rolled on the floor away from the bag they were previously packaged in. His knees suddenly felt like jelly and gave away under him. He slid down against his door, his face growing pale and his throat dry.

_KILLED _

He blinked his eyes, giving himself a good slap in the face. It can't be real. This was reality, sweet reality. The reality where red letters don't randomly appear, telling you to burn and calling you a murderer. He opened his eyes to find the letters had disappeared as if they never existed. He felt his stomach churn as if he wanted to vomit. Looks like lemon candies won't be enough anymore…

* * *

"So where are we going?" Martin asked curiously, looking at Ib.

"Garry's place. He seemed stressed lately, so I wanted to check up on him." She answered with a sweet smile. Ib was getting concerned when she didn't see him out of his apartment that often. Normally she'd see him go down to the convenience store for more cigarettes – and often scolded him for it. Her fingers tightened around the white box she was holding. "Besides, we haven't talked as much as before lately so I kinda miss him."

Martin smiled and walked in front of her. "Ib, you're such a good friend." He gave her a gentle peck on the cheek, giving an impish smile. "I'm almost jealous."

The young brunette blushed and averted her eyes. Even if they've been going out for a few months, she was still shy when he did gestures like that. It made her heart skip a beat. She quickened her pace. "C-C'mon, let's just hurry up and get to Garry's house before he smokes again." By then she was almost at the crosswalk, leaving Martin in the dust.

"H-Hey, wait up!"

Ib's never felt so happy until today. Maybe it was the fact that she was able to spent the day with the two people she loved the most. Even so she was happy when it was just her and Garry, reading and painting, doing the things they did for fun. Although there were times she didn't like that Garry made her wait until she was old enough for certain subjects. She felt that she was mature enough to handle it, but being a teenager now, she has a better understand as to why. However, there were times she felt as if she couldn't be Garry's friend. Stupid age gap. Often she felt as if she was a burden to Garry and other times she felt like that she'll only be a kid to him. Well on the bright they were still close as friends. That was enough for her, right?

She arrived at his door, taking a deep breath as she stood outside, ready to knock. It's awkward for her to randomly drop by without a call, but maybe a change of pace was what he needed.

_Knock knock_

No answer. She knocked again. "Garry, I know you're home. The landlord said you haven't left for a while."

Still nothing. Alright, now Ib's starting to get a little scared. She began to reach her hand in the potted plant by his door, carefully balancing the macaroons in her other hand. In the moist soil she found the spare key. Thank goodness he took her advice about the key. Now if only he'd take her advice about stitching up the holes in his coat's pockets.

"Ib, isn't that breaking and entering? What if he's not really home?" Martin asked nervously.

"It's fine. Even if he's not home, we'll just drop off the macaroons and be on our way, no biggie."

Sadly she was wrong. The door slowly swung open, allowing the two in. Ib called his name, but there was still no answer. She walked into the living room where she expected to find him deeply focused on a new piece, but unfortunately it was never the case. The little white container fell on the floor, spilling and scatter the blue macaroons, now crumbled and splattering sweet cream before her feet.

Garry was on the floor, his eyes closed and his face twisted into an expression that said "Help me."

Ib screamed and ran to his side, calling out his name and shaking his shoulders, desperately hoping that it was just a joke. Tears began to form in the corner of her eyes as she began to realize that his warmth was starting to fade. She looked up to Martin with desperate crimson eyes. "Martin, get help!"

"But Ib, are you-"

"Hurry!" As Martin ran out to find help, she held Garry's hand, begging him to be strong and to hang in there. She noticed the yellow candies throughout the living room floor. Just what happened in here? She back at Garry and noticed something clutched in his other hand. At a closer look she could tell it was shiny and flat. She pulled it out of his hand and felt her heart sink, looking at Garry's pained face.

_Garry… Why was there a palette knife in your hand…? _


	3. Chapter 3

**Fudge buckets, I'm sorry for the following. It's kinda difficult to think of ideas when I'm too excited for Anime Expo. I'll try and update as soon as AX's over, I swear. Until then, enjoy reading ^^;**

Night has fallen and there was still no update about Garry's condition. She could see the doctors and nurses coming in and out of his room taking his vitals and attaching him to fluids, drawing blood from his arm and prying his eyes open to look at his pupils. For hours, she's been praying and praying for him to be okay. She's been praying for him to open his eyes. She's been praying for him to wake up and let her hear his voice again. Ib was left all alone to painfully wait for Garry to wake up and be his normal self. She glanced down at her bag, tears forming in her eyes. The palette knife that Garry had clenched in his hand was in there, hiding among books and pencils. Ib was scared that it might happen again so she stole it from his apartment. This all seemed too surreal. Garry was always a happy person and strong too. Sure, people had given him a hard time before because he spoke like with a effeminate manner, but usually that never bothered him. It doesn't matter now. She just wants him to wake up and be himself again. She didn't want to lose someone so precious to her.

The door slid open, catching her attention and breaking her free from her silent pain. Hope lit up in her ruby irises. "Doctor, how is he? Is he okay?"

He smiled down at her and gave her a firm pat on the head. "He'll be fine. He's asleep right now, but you can come in if you like."

Never before has she felt so relieved and never before has she wanted to hug a stranger before. "Thank you, sir! Thank you so much!"

The doctor cleared his throat and looked through his clipboard. "A few things you should know though. It seems that he's hit his head on something, and he might be suffering from stress. We'll keep him in for a bit to keep a close watch on his condition."

"R-Right, understood."

With that, the doctor walked away and Ib quickly ran inside. Her heart sank as soon as she saw the fluids he was hooked to and the bandage wrapped around his head. His face was finally peaceful as he slept, almost as if he was never having a nightmare. She pulled the chair closer to his bedside, patiently waiting for him to wake up.

"Garry, I'm so sorry I didn't make it in time. Please wake up soon…" She whispered, holding tightly to his slender fingers. "You're my best friend… I don't want to lose you…" Ib's eyes felt heavy with drowsiness. As she let herself drift off to sleep, she smiled at Garry. "We'll have fun again soon, I promise."

* * *

Nightshifts in the gallery was always a pain and always a quick scare in the corner. The man walked down the halls, waving his flashlight over the paintings. The works were certainly amazing in daylight, but when one looks at them at night, one could sense a morbid bitterness behind every stroke and within every sculpture.

So far the patrons have reported being tapped in the shoulders as they stare at the works, hearing whispers, footsteps running down the corridors and sometimes eerie whispers that remained incoherent in their heads. The security guard shuddered at the thought, but there's no way that could be real. It's just the power of the arts as he always believed. He's always understood the power art had and how powerful an impact it can have on one's vision.

As he continued to patrol in the dark, the skin on his face felt a cold rush of air rush by, stinging his nerves. He quickly turned into one of the halls, flashing his light over the white walls.

"Who's there? Come out!"

No response of any kind.

He began to turn on his soles back to his original route, until he saw something twirl and dance down to the floor on his right. His eyes followed the little fluttering object as it twisted in the air and landed carefully on the clean tiles. Slow, he shined some light on the object, his eyes catching the color of rotting red. The light crawled up the floor, revealing another red piece. He knelt down and carefully picked it up in his fingers. The red was soft, but the brown was rough and dry as if it had no life. He held it close to his face to find that it had a sweet and very delicate scent to it. A rose petal?

He followed the red trail down the hall, all the way towards the end. The number of petals slowly increased as he followed their guidance. As he walked down the hall, chills ran up his spine as the temperature dropped.

_Loves me… loves me not…_

The number of petals have increased again as he followed them. They began to pile up more and more as they guided him to where they came from. Then suddenly, the trail ended. The guard was baffled and began to wave the white light around.

The lens shattered and the light flickered before it finally died away. The guard trembled violently in his uniform. Never before has his legs been so weak at something he's only seen. What was supposed to represent something beautiful was something that was now a dark foreboding. The sculpture of thorns and delicate red petals had been withered away, leaving nothing, but a dead bud. Dying vermillion lied scattered throughout the room , almost completely swallowing the white floors. Then there was a message before the Embodiment of Spirit. In bright red letters, words were violently splattered across the clean, blank partition.

_SHE'S MINE_


	4. Chapter 4

**Okay, so AX's over, so I'm pretty sad about that since the last two days weren't really that exciting as before… Darn X Games… Not that many cosplayers D: **

"Ah!" The child jumped awake, panting and in cold sweat. Her wide red orbs adjusted to the darkness of the room, staring at the bookcases and the painting in the room.

"You're awake, that's good." Garry knelt down in front of her and smiled. "You passed out earlier so I got a bit scared for second there." He placed a gentle hand on the top of her brown head. "Are you alright? You look a little pale."

She remained silent for a few seconds, her eyes on the carpet. Her brought her knees to her chest, keeping Garry's coat with her. Her pale lips parted slightly, but she was barely about to speak. The child was normally quiet, but the one time she wants to speak, she can't. Her body tensed up tightly in her stomach and she began to mumble.

"Ib?"

"I… I had a nightmare." The little girl mumbled, burying her face into Garry's tattered coat. She could feel tears sink into the blue fabric and continued to hide her face.

The man's heart sank in his chest. A little girl should be smiling and enjoying life while she can. She shouldn't be traumatized by art. She shouldn't have to be exposed to feral paintings and statues. "You poor thing. After everything we've seen so far, I wouldn't blame you for having a nightmare." He sighed. He wanted Ib to smile and to stand strong. After seeing that painting of her parents, she seemed battered. She withdrew herself and hid from Garry. "Hey, Ib. Check my pocket."

She looked up, her eyes slightly puffy from crying silent tears. Her little hand slid into his coat pocket, digging around for something that would be in there. She felt something with sharp points and crinkly. She began to drag it out into the open and clenched it in her fist. She stared at the yellow wrapper, able to taste the sweet lemon on her tongue just by looking at it. Ib looked up at Garry, questioning him with her expression.

He smiled. "You can have that. Eat it whenever you like." He reached a hand out to pet her head and comfort her.

_STAB_

Suddenly he felt numb in his head and his body froze on the floor. The light in Ib's gentle eyes faded and crimson fluid began to flow from her lips, dripping slowly to the floor. She lifted her head up and looked at Garry. Her eyes overflowed with painful tears as she reached her bloodied hand out to him. "G-Garry…!"

_Thud_

"Ib…? Ib, no!"

Her body no longer moved. It was as if she was a doll, her body on the ground as if she was thrown about and broken. In her back was a palette knife with a dark hand still holding on to it. Blood quickly began to eat away at her white blouse. Garry could make out faint golden threads in the dark and sapphire orbs peering at him in the dark.

The silhouette began to hesitate and loosened its grip on the tool. Garry quickly kicked himself back into a wall and kept watching the figure as it groaned and grabbed its head.

"Not… No… Not me…" It muttered quietly. "I don't want to…!" It then slumped to the floor, curling up into a ball before breaking into spasms. "Stop it!" It shrieked. "It hurts!" It wailed. The voice was clearly familiar and spine-chilling. It sounded like a little girl's pained voice. The shadow rolled on her back which arched into the air as her hands gripped at her own neck. "Leave me alone!"

Garry watched in fear as the shadow kicked and screamed in sheer agonizing pain. He froze, unable to find the strength to move anywhere.

The silhouette got up to her knees, clutching at her head and covering her ears. She started to cry out, wailing like a banshee, screaming out and up to the ceiling. "GET OUT NOW!"

* * *

"Ah!" Garry jumped awake in cold sweat. His eyes were quickly blinded by the morning light piercing through the window. His tired eyes blinked twice and gazed blankly around the room then down. The man smiled and reached his hand out, petting the little miss asleep on his bed and letting his fingers get lost in her silky brown locks. His head was hazy, unable to remember anything about the day before. He looked at Ib's sleeping face and felt his heart warm up. She was alive and well, thank goodness. He noticed the tight grip she had on his blankets as she slept and smiled, feeling like he failed to protect Ib from anything that would make her sad. "I'm sorry for worrying you." He whispered.

Ib's eyes snapped open. "You're forgiven."

"I-Ib, I didn't know you were-"

She silenced him with a hug, her arms wrapped around his neck. She nuzzled her face into his shoulder, tears streaming down her soft cheeks. "Thank goodness… Thank goodness, you're okay."

Garry felt warmth in his cheek and his chest. With Ib having a boyfriend and his living alone, he never expected this kind of thing to happen to him. He was so happy that it was Ib giving him this gentle embrace. He was glad that Ib cared so much about him like this. At this point, he was actually jealous of Martin for having Ib has his girlfriend. Normally, by he'd mentally smack himself for that type of thinking. He was much older than her and not only that, she has school to worry about. He's always felt that he doesn't deserve to be Ib's best friend. He was always mocked for being effeminate. He was always looked down upon by passersby for hanging out with someone so much younger than him. Personally speaking, the man didn't care about how others seen him. He had his art and he had a wonderful friend. Still, he felt as if he was a bother to Ib. What if she was being mocked for hanging out with someone like him? What if she was bothered by how people treated them? He was glad that part of his questions was answered. She didn't care about them. She cared that Garry was alive and kicking. Ib was so strong and yet so very kind despite her quiet nature.

He slowly began to hug her back, his arms hugging her at her waist. "I'm sorry for scaring you like that." He smiled and nudged her off. Garry almost frowned at her tearstained face as she wiped her sadness from her face. "Ib, smile. It's a disservice to your cute face if I let you cry like this." He held her hands and let out a small chuckle. He remembered the last time he said that and to be honest, he never thought he'd say it again.

Ib felt nostalgia and nodded. "Even now, you say that." She put on a brave smile and laughed a bit. "In exchange, we'll hang out more, got it?"

"Of course!" He smiled and ruffled her hair again. "I promise!"

Things were suddenly looking up for the two, but there was still some matters that remained unanswered and unaddressed. Garry's dream still sent chills down his spine as he remembered the vividness of that dark place. It scared him to think about it and it made him want to keep Ib even closer just so it wouldn't happen.

As for Ib, the palette knife still rested in her backpack as well as her mind. Having seen the scene at Garry's apartment left her a scar on her heart. Was something wrong? Why did he have a palette knife in his hand? Garry was always strong, there was no way he would've attempted suicide. Or would he? People keeps giving him a hard time and she hasn't exactly been there for him lately. Guilt weighed down her heart and her smile. She didn't mean to, but she might've hurt Garry.

_She's mine, Garry. You won't take her from me. Never again._


	5. Chapter 5

**I apologize for the bad chapter (referring to chapter 4) Writing things while fireworks are drowning out my songs is a real pain sometimes. My ear buds were even rendered useless x_x Anyways, the following may not be any better. I can't really tell ._. The ending's pretty rushed too since I have to go to work soon ._.**

"Hey, Ib."

Ib put down her book, turning her focus on Martin who sat across the table from her.

"Tomorrow's your birthday, isn't it?" He asked. He flashed his famous smile at her. "I'll pick you up at 9. I have a surprise for you."

The teen felt her cheeks run red and her heart skip a beat. She still wasn't used to being a relationship or at least in this kind of relationship. Martin was always good to her and was always understanding. She felt a little spoiled by him. "A surprise? Martin, y-you don't really have to-"

Martin smiled and made a small laugh. "It's cute how you're so shy about it." He complimented. "I insist, really!"

She looked away, her eyes fixated on the café's tiles. Tomorrow was her birthday and Martin remembered. She felt happy and rather fuzzy in her chest, but at the same time she felt a little sad. It was her 17th birthday tomorrow. If she was spending it with Martin, it would mean it's the first time she'd be spending it without Garry. Images of her past birthdays with Garry and her family played in her mind, reminding her of that sweet nostalgia and the good times they all shared together as a family. Well it's one birthday, right? She'll be home by 7 either way since Martin made sure to stay on her father's good side.

She looked at him and his pleading blue eyes. Great, she just felt herself melt in his hands. It was sweet of him to insist. "Alright," She caved. "At 9 then." What's the worst that can happen?

* * *

Garry was uncomfortable as his friend started yanking him into the building as soon as he arrived. But then again, this place was where his trauma was born, who could blame him? "I honestly don't understand why you yank me _your _place of work on a day that I told you was-"

"Would you just hear me out?" The uniformed friend pleaded. "I'm telling you, this place… I-It's seriously haunted!" He started pulling the artist into a dark room, lit up by little screens showing patrons and art admirers walking about. "You've read the articles, right? Why the last guards quit and what they saw?"

Garry pondered for a moment and for that moment he was honestly serious. This was _his _gallery after all. Who could forget being chased by statues, ladies popping out of paintings and of course being chased by a little girl with a knife? Suddenly, guilt started to coil in his stomach. Mary only wanted to exist in their reality, not some lonely world where all other beings only wanted a rose to eat and play with. Was it really right to kill Mary the way he did?

"Garry. Garry!"

He snapped out his musing and looked up at his friend, remembering that he had a question to answer. "R-Right. I heard. They said they heard laughter and the lights would flicker sometimes."

The guard nodded. "Paintings would be in a different position and sometimes the statues would seem like they were moving." He started to run his fingers across the buttons on the computer. "I didn't really believe them when I took this job, but then last night… I swear I almost died."

The man ran his fingers through his lavender hair, scratching his head. "Wesley, you're up late at night in the dark, staring at paintings and walking around without your coffee habit. I'm sure you're imagining things."

"Then explain this!" Wesley demanded as he pointed at the screen.

Garry first saw the genuine fear in his eyes and looked at the screen. The black and white colors didn't show much, but a flickering light pointed at the Embodiment of Spirit. He could make out a shaped-shadow in the corner which was clearly his friend, collapsed on the ground. In gray, he could make out the words among the monochrome static.

"She's mine?" He read, confused and somewhat nervous.

Wesley nodded. "I thought it was just a joke at first, but then right here." He pointed at the rose sculpture. "Do you see that shadow?"

The darkened figure was human-shaped and familiar. It had the build of a young teenage boy and his stature was similar to someone's. Then Garry noticed something unsettling. He saw the faint gleam of a lively blue pop out from the monochrome colors. The video continued to play and then… "Wait, go back!"

Wesley did has he asked, rolling back the video and playing it slower.

"There, right there! Stop!"

The video paused, showing something that the guard's diligent eyes had missed. Actually, two things. The screen had paused over a dark silhouette gliding across the screen as if it was right in front of the camera itself. Behind the fading gray were dark warps in the static that could barely be identified as something in general.

"Wesley, do you think you can clarify this?" He asked, pointing at the figure and the warps in the static. His eyes drifted about the room, staring at the other screens to see if there was something he might be missing at the moment. He was right. His sapphire orbs had caught on to one of the screens pointed at the headless statues of the three primary colors. Before the plaque that would introduce them was a pair of teens. As one turned, he soon recognized the features of her face, his heart almost stopping. Why was she here of all places? His eyes grew fixated on Martin who stood next to her with his hands behind his back. Then it hit him. It hit him like a ton of bricks to his head. "Call me when you figure it out!"

"Hey, Garry! Don't leave me alone here!"

Garry made a mad dash downstairs, leaping over the red velvet that determined where the patrons were allowed. He arrived at the statues, haunted by their stillness as he stared at them. It felt as if they were about to move at any moment. There's no time to be scared, he has to find Ib.

"Isn't it beautiful? You like roses, right Ib?"

There they are!

"Yup. It's just as pretty as it was when I-"

"Ib!" Garry cried desperately as he caught up to them.

The two teens turned around dumbfounded by the voice calling her. "Garry? What are you doing here?"

The man bent over, his hands on his knees as he caught his breath. "I… I should be asking you that…!" He tried to catch his breath. "This place is dangerous!"

"Garry, if it's about those articles…" Ib started. "I'm sure it's nothing. People are willing to make up things these days just for a good story." Over the years, Ib had learned about the reality of lies from the people in her school. It certainly wasn't pretty. Besides that, she was sure it wouldn't happen again. Mary was nothing, but ashes now so the fabricated world has no reason to fabricate once more.

Garry grabbed Ib's wrist and pulled her away from Martin to somewhere more private. He looked back at Martin who continued to stare at the beautiful flower that bloomed in a twisted fashion.

"Ib, it _is _happening again. More importantly, I believe Martin's involved."

"Garry, you're being silly." Ib started to make her way back to Martin only to be stopped by Garry once more. "Garry!"

"Ib, just because Mary died doesn't mean we can waltz back here without precautions! I saw the proof with my own eyes! You're being too careless!"

She snatched her hand away. "I'm not here it's now safe since Mary died! I'm here because she _died_!" Her fists balled up at her side. "All she wanted to was be real. I know we didn't have a choice, but she really was a good girl. It wasn't her fault that Guertena's pain was her fuel. She was lonely…"

"Ib…"

"If anything, you're the one being careless! Not only that, but I've seen the way you've looked at Martin! Even if you don't like him, can't you at least let me be happy with him? There's no way Martin's a part of the gallery! He goes to my school for Pete's sake!" Never before has she been so angry with Garry. Her heart was in a bitter swirl of frustration and guilt, unable to control herself.

Garry looked into her crimson eyes. They didn't seem angry and they didn't seem sorrowful. They didn't even seem focused on the issue at hand. No, they seemed more frustrated than anything. This seemed completely different from the Ib he knew, yet it was still her. Why? Why does it seem so painful to watch her like this?

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were jealous." She frowned. "But I know that's not the case." She pivoted on her heels and walked back to Martin. "Just go home, Garry."

Garry was left in shock. Ib had actually rebelled against him and actually yelled at him. She broke her quiet nature and practically mauled him with bitter words and tearful sentiment. She could be right though. Garry hasn't been well every since that incident back at his apartment and he couldn't even remember the important details of what happened. He looked back at Ib and Martin, frowning at the two and at himself. He just ruined Ib's birthday and her date. He's completely failed at protecting her from anything, including himself. He started to turn towards the entrance he came in and started to walk, his hands in his coat pockets. He looked out the window out to the botanical gardens of crossbred roses they had outside, sighing heavily. He was ready to curse himself out for being so stupid. He didn't expect to hurt Ib the way he did.

_Ring ring_

The ringtone from his phone snapped him out of his stupor. "Hello?"

"Hey, Garry. I managed to clarify the video. It's weird."

"What is?" He sighed as he pulled out a lemon candy. Goddammit, nicotine cravings can be such a-

"Well the warps says…" Wesley squinted his eyes to be sure he could get a better look.

Garry waited patiently, turning his attention to the world outside of the window.

"It says…"

The artist dropped the treat and nearly dropped his phone at the same time. He stared at the yellow words painted on the glass, his skin running chills throughout his entire body. He heard his friend's voice on the other end of the line and felt his tongue swell in his mouth.

_HELP ME HELP IB_


	6. Chapter 6

**OAO I finally checked my emails and saw you the comments you guys left ;~; Thanks for the support! I'll do my best to write this story! Although the following's short x_x You're all free to smack me ._.**

"Garry, if I get fired for this, you owe me free drinks." Wesley warned as he took the marker from the artist's hand. He popped off the thin cap with his teeth and began tracing the shadow on the frozen frame.

Garry eyed the man's calloused hand as it carefully outlined the shadow on the screen. The thin line of ink revealed a nose and thin lips. The marker followed the skinny extension protruding from the figure then the rest of the body until there was no more room to trace. He squinted his eyes, trying to make out the shape of his friend's messy outline. No matter how he looked at it, he saw a person with long hair. A small person with a petite stature. Where has he seen this before? Then it hit him. The long wavy hair, the unusual bulk around the extension and the small body… It was all Mary crying for help. Garry's brain began to pound against his skull, forcing him to bring a hand up to his head. Dark images began to burn brightly in his mind, flooding back and awakening his memories.

_BURN_

It was all that person…

_KILLED_

The words…

_MURDERER_

That uneasy chill…

_Loves me not_

He remembered! He remembered what happened. Every detail of the night he had fallen unconscious in his apartment came rushing back to him. That blue gleam in the video was also there later that night. He's seem that shine of blue before. It's the only conclusion there is.

"Garry, are you alright?" The guard asked out of concern for his friend.

"I'm sorry, Wesley, but I have to go!"

"Again? If I lose this job-"

Too late, the man had already ran out the door, forcing his way through a crowded path of people. He ignored the dirty looks people had given him, his mind focused on one thing only: Ib. He ran further and further into the gallery, disregarding the warnings set up around the place. His heart pounded against his ear drums in rhythm with his panting and his running steps. Then he came to realized that those were the only sounds he could hear. He stopped. The artist stood there quietly, looking around as the lights went out, just as he remembered. He looked at the painting that awaited him on the floor with bated breath. Garry stared into the dark blue depths, still and lifeless.

Suddenly, the blue began to ripple just like water. The smell of salt permeated through the room, making him gag a bit. He could hear bubbles rise to the surface with little pops and gurgles. Slowly as they rose, they touched each other almost like a little dance. They started to take form, the tension of the bubbles' surface threatening to pop.

_Hello_

The man felt his stomach lurch and chills in his skin as he watched the bubbles break apart and form a new message. He didn't like how it was happening. Actually, he didn't like it was happening period. If just seeing bubbles form the word 'Hello' was scary, then what could Ib be going through?

_Welcome back Garry_

As he squat down to begin his descent to the Hell he escaped, the past began to rear its ugly head. It reminded him of the terrors that helped end him up in a year of therapy. The face of the Lady in Blue that almost took his life with a little game of Loves Me Loves Me Not almost made him hesitate. He swallowed his pride and focused on Ib whose life was on the line. His next step took him away and pulled him into the nightmare that was the deadly Fabricated world.

Just as he remembered, he ended up in a passageway of red, surrounded by words of dark blue that greeted him as he finished his descent down the stairs. They all lined up on the wall perfectly in rows, whispering the same thing over and over.

_STAY FOREVER_

_THIS IS OUR PARADISE_

_PLAY WITH US_

He looked down both ways of the corridor, trying to remember where he found his rose. The ground suddenly began to quake under him and he realized the walls behind him were closing, taking away his last chance to turn back. Then again, he refused to turn back; not when his best friend's life was on the line.

"No good standing around here." He turned into a random direction and started moving down the scribbled-on halls. "Just wait, Ib. I'm com-" So much for that dramatic hero moment. Face meet tile.

The man groaned as he pushed himself up, rubbing his nose as he turned on his bum. "My goodness, what did I trip on?" He pulled his legs closer to him to look and suddenly he wished he was up and running.

A blue doll greeted him with a stitched smile, its plush hands holding onto an emerald stalk that bloomed into a beautiful blue rose. It's red eyes stared blankly at the wall on the other side, only smiling at nothing.

"The rose." Garry realized. He reached his hand out to pull the flower out from the doll's grip. He gently held the flower close, making sure not to knock any petals loose. The rose only had five cerulean petals blossoming. Surely there was a vase nearby. He stood up and turned in search of one, ignoring the doll's deed of delivering his rose.

"What? No tip?" A squeaky voice asked.

Crap… Just crap…


	7. Chapter 7

**I'm so sorry for the long wait, guys ._. I've been hit by writer's block, my arch nemesis. Anyways, I apologize for the bad chapter below and for the lack of updates ._.  
**

He should just run right now. Just keep walking and ignore the doll like last time. No matter what, he must not acknowledge the freaky toy's presence. It'll only chase after him like that time. He took another step forward into the dark unknown, his lips pressed together tight.

"I know you can hear me." The doll declared. "Take me."

His shoulders stiffened and his throat ran dry, rendering him unable to speak or move. Would it happen again? Would he be stalked or targeted by this doll? He looked back at the toy who was caught smiling at him with impish red eyes. His instincts told him that this was the same doll from back then and practically screamed at him to run.

Just keep walking.

He moved quickly down the hall, his rose tucked in a hole of his coat's collar. The hall seemed endless, forever scribbled with the same words over and over. The same words that begged him to stay in their so-called paradise. Paradise? This place was Hell, perhaps worse. His eyes darted ahead, scanning for doors, but instead of doors, he found paintings. The same women that would pursuit him and Ib, aiming for their roses hung on the walls, poised and refined. They weren't moving, but he grew wary of them.

Then finally, he found a door, painted dark red in contrast to the bright red walls at the end of the hall. The sound of his heart pounding faster began to pound in his head. Something will be waiting in the next room, but the problem was what it was. He touched the handle, pushing down on it, but it didn't move. It barely jostled as he tried to turn it. Locked. Dammit, it's locked.

He ran his fingers though his hair, uttering a small groan when he realized that he'd have to go all the way to the other end. Garry couldn't afford to waste time knowing Ib was with Martin. Who knows that the little bastard could be doing to her?

Suddenly the sound of glass breaking reached his ears and a thud was heard in the distance. In the dark, he heard something utter a feral hiss and drag through the hall. His heart jumped into his throat and he reached for the door knob once more, jostling it violently as a desperate attempt to escape. This wasn't getting him anywhere. His eyes darted around, skimming for some kind of clue to a secret passage or something that he could use to protect himself. Then his eyes caught onto a clue written in messy blue on the wall behind him.

_Looking for this?_

Garry looked down and felt his lips pull into an angry frown. The little blue bastard followed him again. Just as he about to kick the toy, he noticed something shine in its hands. It was just the thing he needed. He heard the feral noise come closer and closer in his direction, making him fidget. The man had no time to waste and thus he grabbed the doll, ripping the key from its hands and jamming it into the keyhole.

"Come on…!" He muttered as he tried to turn the key. The key wouldn't turn in the direction it was meant to go.

The low growls were breathing down on his neck, making his heart pound in his ears. He continued to twist the key against its will and cursed incoherently at the door.

Click

"Yes!" He cheered. The door burst open into the room it led to and slammed with a heavy thud behind him. The man caught his breath, his chest heaving as a result from the fear that stirred in his guts. "Too close…" He panted as he stared at his shredded pants leg. The Lady in Red had managed to tear the dark brown fabric without him realizing. Thank goodness she didn't grab his ankle. He continued to stare at his exposed ankle, feeling as if things were too close for comfort. "Talk about lucky…"

"I'll say. You finally took me with you!" The blue doll cheered, squeaking a little giggle.

Garry looked at the blue doll in his hand and frowned. It looked right at him with her red eyes and twisted grin. Garry's eyes wouldn't break their gaze no matter how much he wanted to just drop the little demon and run. Even if the doll helped bring him his rose and the key, it was still Mary's creation and it was still related to the beast of the doll room from his last adventure in the Fabricated world. He shot a glare at the doll as the bitter memories began to swirl about in his mind, throwing his stomach into clumsy flips and his muscles into tense twitches.

"So do I get a thank you for helping you?"

* * *

_Loves me... __  
_

A faint whimper was released from her throat.

_Loves me not..._

She yelped as the agonizing pain resonated in her back followed by the sting of a new wound on her neck. The young girl was a bloody mess, her pale skin smothered by crimson and ruined by gashes and cuts. She could feel her body run cold as the warmth of life slowly began to fade away. How could she have not seen this? Why didn't she listen to him? Her thoughts were overrun by countless questions surrounding her current predicament. She knew she had to escape, but her body wouldn't let her. Overwhelmed by the brutality of her injuries, she collapsed onto her knees, struggling to stay up. Blood trickled from the corner of her pink lips as the result of the damage she had been dealt, overpowering her tongue with the taste of iron.

"Tired?"

Her crimson eyes shot up at the person in front of her with disgust.

"Why not take a rest? You can stay here forever and never be hurt again." The man assured, tapping her nose with his blood-stained finger affectionately. "And that way, we'll always be together!"

Ib dragged herself to the wall, her body broken as if she was a rag doll. Her back pressed against the dark partition as she tried to gather the rest of her strength to struggle back on her feet, but to no avail could she even get on her knees.

His smile softened as he grew to admire Ib's broken state. his cheeks grew pink with excitement as he dived into his fantasy of being with Ib in his lovely home forever. It worked. After years of carefully detailed planning, it worked. Ib has come back and this time she was going to stay with him. The best thing about this was that time does not exist in this world. They would live together forever. It was like the perfect dream. "No one will take you away from me again."

The brunette leaned on the wall for support as she tried to take her stand. Her fingers gripped onto the bronze frame above her, pulling her body up and granting her a legitimate standing chance. Her eyes narrowed with fiery anger as she stared at the blonde's placid orbs.

"Stop it..." She winced. "I know who you are." She groaned.

Martin snapped out of his musing as her words had reached his ears. "What?" He responded curiously. "Silly girl, of course you know!"

The teen couldn't hear him through her struggle and began to speak."You attacked Garry... You got him in the hospital... Then you brought me here..." Each breath she took was like a blow to her chest. The brunette was obviously at her physical limit.

"Right, right and right, my dear!" Martin cheered, almost laughing. "I love how you're so smart."

"Stop it!" She demanded. "I know you wanted to escape and you did! Why didn't you just leave me and Garry alone?" She shouted. Her emotional limits began to crack. "I know we hurt you and I'm sorry!" Ib wailed, tears streaming down her cheeks. "I'm so sorry..." She whimpered. Her knees shook under her and she fell to the red carpet with a heavy thud. Her warm tears left dark spots on the carpet where she laid, broken in both mind and body. "I'm so sorry, Mary..."

The young man squatted down in front of her, his placid eyes now concerned. "I'm afraid you're confused, my dear. It's probably from your exhaustion so I'll clarify."

She looked at him with pathetic maroon eyes that were glazed over as she felt the pain slowly numb away.

"Mary is my daughter."


	8. Chapter 8

**Oh crap… Oh crap, guys, I am so sorry for so many things. I'm sorry for the lack of updates and I'm sorry for the typo in the last chapter. I barely looked at it again and I noticed I put 'daughter' instead of 'granddaughter'. Oh my flipsticks, I am so freakin' sorry D:**

"I should've just taken the key instead of you." Garry mumbled bitterly to the doll in his hands. The man had only spent about five minutes with the blue imp and so far he's far beyond annoyed with her. How'd he managed to prioritize a doll over Ib he'll never understand. What's done is done in any case. He set the doll down in a corner, staring at its still smile with a scowl.

"You want to save her, right?" She asked, ignoring Garry's bitter sentiment. "You want to save the red rose, right?" She giggled.

The red rose… That's right, Ib was here and that would mean she'd have her rose too. It struck him hard in the stomach with fear remember how pale she was when her rose was almost stripped of all its petals. If that were to happened again… He didn't dare to approach that thought. All he could do was pray that she'd be safe against Martin.

His gaze grew fixated on the fabricated imp, his glare softening as he sighed tiredly in defeat. "Yes." He simply replied, his fingernails scratching into the darkly colored carpet as he grew tense.

"If you help me, I can show you someone who can help you." The doll's red eyes seemed to glimmer for a moment as she spoke. Her voice remained childish, but sorrow could be hinted in what she said next. "Everyone here hates me. Everyone here hates her."

The man raised a brow at the doll. "Hates who?" He asked.

"Everyone wants her gone. Everyone blames her!" The doll was silenced, allowing tension to hang in air.

Garry stared at her smile, frowning at the doll's words. It seemed anguished, almost at tears. His eyes shifted around the room as he tried to look away from the imp. Then he came to notice something in the yellow room. It was something new to him, a place he was never in. He saw the red threads dangling from the ceiling, frayed as if they were cut. Underneath the threads, he noticed bits of stuffing scattered on the carpet and pieces of ripped fabric of different colors down the corridor. He looked down the hall he ran through after running into the room and finally saw the limp limbs hanging out from the walls. They didn't move nor twitched like they did before. Instead they lied on the floor, fingers sprawled out and broken. He looked back at his old acquaintance. "What do you mean…?" He asked, thinking the damages to the room were connected to the blue fella's tale.

"Mary burned. She burned to ashes. All because of you and that red child!" The imp cried. "But she was freed. Her spirit was freed from that wretched frame!"

"Her spirit?" Garry parroted. "But Guertena-" He stopped himself and remembered that the old artist rarely painted real people. Everyone he had painted were people from his imagination, including the lady in red. "But Guertena would never paint real people."

The doll remained quiet and very still, leaving Garry anxious to listen to more.

"You don't know anything." She answered in a mocking voice. "The books don't know anything!" The doll spat. The more Garry spoke with her, the more she seemed like Mary. Well, the young girl did create her in the first place. "Mary was a good girl! Mary didn't want to do anything wrong! It was that man! It was that bad man!"

"Bad man? Martin?"

The doll sputtered her tongue even though she didn't have one. "Martin does not exist! Martin is a true bastard to the definition!" Pause. "Bad man hurt Mary… He made her do cruel things."

Garry could hear how much the doll's speaking manners had deteriorated, going from snarky remarks to the manners of a small child. Was it that bad? Was Mary really being forced to do things she didn't want to do? Last time, she was willing to hurt him and Ib and take one of their lives. Instead things turned and he took hers. Wouldn't she want revenge after all that? After all, Garry was the one that set her to ashes without question.

"Bad man influenced Mary and kept her trapped here… Garry and Ib free Mary by burning her canvas… But now he took control and forced Mary to do bad things. Mary can't refuse him… She doesn't have a choice…"

Garry continued to listen to the doll's sorrowful cries as she continued to scream in pain for the missing Mary. It made his chest ache with a sharp pain. Regrets began to swirl in his mind as he began to remember everything he saw in that room on that day. He remembered the broken glass crunching under his feet as she chased after them. He remembered the horror on her face as her body began to bloom fiery roses that ate away at what she considered flesh. After that, he decided in a few therapy sessions that he did the right thing. He put Mary out of her lonely misery and ended the pain she was living in for who knows how long.

"I hear her…" The doll whimpered. "She says it hurts… She's scared…" The doll began to move, ripping through her little white dress and then tearing into her blue skin. "Don't cry, please… Don't cry…"

Garry was appalled at the scene he was watching. This doll was ripping herself apart, tearing into her dress and fabric skin in a frenzy of scratches and rips. He reached for the doll, desperate to stop her. Another life shouldn't be lost to this place's influence even if it was just an object of this world. That is what he believed. Sadly, the man was too late. The blue child had torn her belly in two, pulling her stuffing out no matter how much it pained her.

"Stop! Just what the hell are you doing?" Garry cried as he reached for the dodgy imp.

Doll stopped. That smile was still there, obviously forced as she slumped against the wall. Slowly she reached into her stomach, pulling out a thin green stalk that bloomed into golden yellow. "Please… Help me… Help Mary…! Help my mommy…"

The little doll's body fell limp, cradling the yellow rose in her arms as her voice faded into broken sobs.


End file.
